Step inside Syracuse University’s Comstock Art Facility, better known as ComArt, and you’re instantly surrounded by a palpable creative energy. The smell of paint, glue, metal, clay and solvents meld together as dividers stretch across the open floor, transforming one large room into a patchwork of individual studios.
On one side of the room, Lily Ryan ’25 tinkers as they walk around what some might mistake for a rummage sale—high-top tables piled high with handmade ceramic pieces, rope, wires, textile scraps, wooden cogs and half-assembled machines.
Around the corner, a stark contrast as Rumini “Rumi” Nguyen ’25 writes in her journal in what appears to be a crocheted living room: a peaceful, orderly space lined with yarn, thread and photos of home.
Within earshot of both, Zoe Requena Bustillo ’25 sips an energy drink as she sews eyes onto a puppet. A small Venezuelan flag sits amidst a sea of paints, brushes, figurines and colorful drawings.
This spring, these three graduating seniors are using their creative corners to construct capstone projects for a final exhibition at the Warehouse Gallery. The show is the culmination of their time in the studio arts B.F.A. program and a celebration of their artistic and personal growth.
Lily Ryan in their ComArt studio, surrounded by the materials and machines that bring their “do-it-yourself” ethos to life.
Lily Ryan: “DIY or Die”
“The term ‘DIY or die’ has never left my side for as long as I’ve lived,” says Ryan, who freely explores numerous mediums and is unafraid to mix and match materials, concepts and feelings to construct their art.
“My work has a lot to do with the uncanny, the passage of time, the comforts and discomforts that come with being a queer person, and the inevitable end to it all,” says Ryan, who grew up in Syracuse. “The pieces in the exhibition were inspired by my favorite childhood toys, a poem from the 1800s, my lovely girlfriend and a bunch of wood, clay and fabric scraps I couldn’t bring myself to trash before I graduated.”
Tapping into feelings of nostalgia and a personal well of inspiration, their eclectic work stems from a process of tinkering and designing illusions. “I love machinery and making things move,” Ryan says.
As they prepare for the exhibition, Ryan reflects on the past four years at Syracuse University. “My work has grown a ton since I was a freshman—not just skill wise but conceptually more than anything.”
Rumi Nguyen’s crocheted objects draw on memory, homesickness and personal reflection—each piece a soft sculpture of nostalgia and growth.
Rumi Nguyen: Weaving Memories of Home
“I think we tend to make art about the things we can’t stop thinking about,” says Nguyen, whose capstone work is an intimate exploration of her feelings of being far from home.
Nguyen, who hails from the Bay Area of California, crochets objects of her past from memory. “I was really inspired by this sense of homesickness, memories I keep holding onto, the nostalgia that comes with it and also the grief,” she says.
Her process, rooted in free-writing and journaling, allows her to translate emotions into form. “This project taught me how important writing is to my work,” Nguyen says, who is also a museum studies minor.
New to the craft, Nguyen didn’t start crocheting until she arrived on Syracuse’s campus. “What I’ve appreciated most about my time here has been the opportunity and space to try new things, find areas where I feel curious and comfortable, and explore ideas,” she reflects.
Zoe Requena Bustillo holds a Venezuelan flag in her studio space. Her art centers on community, culture and the complexities of immigration.
Zoe Requena Bustillo: Art in Activism
“My work this year has been based on people I love and how to share with a community that doesn’t understand the Latin perspective,” says Requena Bustillo, whose art mirrors causes closest to her heart.
Requena Bustillo’s capstone work includes a puppet theater about Venezuelan history along with themes of displacement and identity. “I have been very concerned over politics,” says Requena Bustillo, who grew up in Venezuela and moved frequently. “There is little empathy for why people immigrate or why Latin people have to leave their countries,” she explains.
Over the course of the program, Requena Bustillo has become more patient with her artistic process. “As a freshman I would run with the first idea I could think of—now, I see myself really sitting with the topics I work with and research more heavily,” Requena Bustillo recounts.
Ryan installs one of their interactive machines ahead of the capstone exhibition, running May 2–10 at the Warehouse Gallery.
Studio Support
For Ryan, Nguyen and Requena Bustillo, the B.F.A. experience has been about more than creating—it’s been about connection.
“Art thrives in community,” states Requena Bustillo. “The most important conversations in my life have happened while making art around others.”
Ryan, who admits to being “too shy” at the start of the program advises newcomers to “talk to as many people as you can.”
Nguyen also offers encouragement to future artists. “The world needs art right now!” she says. “So many people are going to tell you don’t need a degree to do art, but if you love it and want to learn the language, then this program will help you do that. It’s certainly helped me.”
“I’ve worked with my capstone group for the past four years and have seen all of us grow,” Requena Bustillo adds. “Seeing us all exhibit our work in a space like the Warehouse is so exciting.”
Zoe Requena Bustillo installs her mixed-media work at the Warehouse Gallery, preparing for the B.F.A. capstone exhibition.
The Exhibition
As the capstone exhibition nears, the creative energy inside ComArt feels even more electric. The once-chaotic jumble of materials takes shape—each piece a reflection of where these artists have been and where they’re headed. It’s the realization of four years of growth, the echo of every conversation had in shared studio space and a creative culmination built from the ground up—one scrap, stitch and story at a time.
